All Chapters of I Am Their Mother: Rebirth Of The Wicked Stepmother : Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Clara didn’t say another word as she stood from the dining room, her chest already tight with something she couldn’t quite name yet. She quietly asked the children to follow her into the living room so they could talk properly about what Emily just said, about no one liking Lucas and Emily at school. And even as the words left the little girl's mouth, they felt unreal, impossible, like something her mind refused to fully grasp. Because surely… surely she had misheard, surely it couldn’t be as bad as it sounded, and yet the unease settling deep in her chest told her otherwise. She moved ahead of them, slower than usual, almost hesitant, and by the time they all settled into the living room, the air already felt different. Sophie dropped onto the rug, sitting cross-legged, her small fingers immediately finding the hem of her dress, twisting and retwisting the fabric in a repetitive motion that betrayed everything she wasn’t saying, while Emily sat beside her, far too still for

Clara moved before the silence could swallow them whole again, as if the very air around her had turned thick and suffocating, pressing against her lungs, clawing at her chest, filled with ghosts that threatened to drag her under if she stood still for even a second longer. Because she knew with terrifying certainty-that if she stopped, if she let herself think, if she allowed those memories to sink even a fraction deeper into her bones, she would drown in them, completely and irreversibly. And she could not afford that, not now, not when the children were standing right in front of her, watching her, waiting for something-anything-from her. "Go get dressed," she said suddenly. "Make sure you dress properly." The children blinked at her, all three of them at once, their reactions almost eerily synchronized as confusion flickered across their faces. Slowly-hesitantly-they looked down at themselves, Sophie tugging lightly at her shirt, Emily glancing at her sleeves while still

Clara didn’t allow herself to linger in the aftermath of the call, not for even a second longer than necessary, because she knew herself too well. She couldn’t afford to waste time, not when there was still so much to fix, not when her children were depending on her in ways she had only just begun to understand. So instead, she ran to her bedroom, almost aggressively, like she was trying to outrun something chasing her from behind. Something invisible but suffocating, something that carried the weight of her past mistakes, her cruelty, her failures, and every memory that still burned beneath her skin. 'Don’t fail again!' The thoughts looped relentlessly in her mind, pushing her forward until she reached the door. Clara stepped inside and shut the door behind her. She had already showered, so she didn’t waste time there, instead moving directly toward her wardrobe, her hand reaching out as her fingers brushed across rows of carefully curated clothes, designer pieces, custo

Clara was boiling. Not just angry or upset. But truly, furiously boiling. Her chest rose and fell asleep she tried to calm herself but it seemed futile. Each inhale dragged fire into her lungs and each exhale came out unsteady. Her hands trembled visibly at her sides in a way that betrayed just how much she was holding back. Her fingers curled into fists, then loosened again, as if she were physically fighting herself. As if something inside her was clawing to get out. Something that wanted to lash out and destroy everything within reach... Just like her past life. Because that was who she used to be. And God... it would have been so easy to fall back into that version of herself. So easy to scream louder, hit harder, destroy harder, hurt him the way she had once hurt everyone else. But she didn't. She held it in. Forced it down, even as it burned through her. Refusing to let herself become that person again. Behind her, the soft, fragile sounds of the children filled th

Clara was done with both her husband and idiotic brother. So, she didn’t linger on the argument she had had with Jade before Ethan’s arrival. She didn’t turn back to fix things the way she usually would have. She didn’t walk toward her brother. She didn’t wrap her arms around him as she had pictured after her rebirth. She didn’t apologize. She didn’t say the words that had been sitting heavy in her chest for far too long even though she should have. God, she should have! She turned to Jade and his expression tugged at her heartstrings. She should have hugged him. She should have told him she was sorry. She should have held onto him the way she almost had on the phone. But right now, she was still too angry, too heated, and too consumed by everything that had just happened with him. And that anger swallowed everything else, even love, even regret, even family. There was no space for softness. No room for reconciliation. Only the truth she had just unleashed. So